


Guardian for a Guardian

by UnrealRomance



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: AU, Adventurous, Alternate Universe, F/M, Major Original Character(s), alternate storyline, romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the village of Guadosalam, Seymour Guado learns of a great threat that will undoubtedly cause great harm to his people, as well as all of Spira.</p><p>He enlists the help of: a fellow summoner (OC), a guardian without a purpose and an Al Bhed Engineer just looking to escape.</p><p>Problem is, Seymour isn't quite sure what the actual danger IS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU, if you didn't catch that in the tags.
> 
> Alternate universe to a lesser extent, though. The summoners, guardians and things like that still exist, but in different forms for different reasons.

It's so quiet tonight.

Guadosalam was never my first choice for my pledge years, but I can't deny its beauty. The moss covering nearly every tree. Streams and waterfalls that glitter with purity... It's only the Guado that I have any problem with. It isn't that they aren't perfectly nice, or that I think they're all evil or something.

It's their fingers.

Those long, pointy digits that look like claws. Everything else about them is mostly normal looking. It's just that every time they wave or lift their hands to gesture something- I see claws slashing at me. I feel really bad about it, so I try to control the little thrill of fear that I've been able to beat back and suppress. I think the only indication left of my fear is a small facial spasm, localized to my left eyebrow.

People have asked if I'm okay before, so I know it's sometimes noticeable- but it's usually when I'm feeling particularly strung out or exhausted that day.

The temples are all at least a half-day journey away from Guadosalam, which is another reason I don't really love this place. The only reason I  _am_  here is because I have such a strong connection to the Farplane. I was so happy that the Fayth found me to be hospitable, and they had to go and ruin it by sending me here to safeguard this  _one_  place!

All the other summoners got to exchange amongst the temples, whilst I languish here to protect something no one dares attack for fear of the collapse of all life.

So, in short- me not happy.

There  _are_  guardians here, that protect us and train new recruits- that makes it kind of interesting. People from all over Spira coming to train to protect the Farplane and the Summoners who maintain it. Honestly, maintaining the Farplane consists mostly of meditation and rituals that take up only a fraction of my time. The rest is spent getting familiar with the locals, so I can stop twitching every time they give me a friendly greeting; Of course I perform duties for the little village and the Farplane's upkeep is more than just spiritual... but I still wish I could go to an actual temple.

There is one consolation, I guess.

The Maester, Seymour Guado. He runs Macalania temple, but he comes to visit home  _alot_. He's always good for stories, and deep conversation. I think he finds my yearning for temple life amusing and indulges me only when we're completely alone. We sometimes take meals together, or he'll bring me tea while I'm meditating and sit with me.

I think it's the only time he can truly relax.

I live in the same wing as the Guado Maester, as the only other summoner here I occupy a plush position. The other side of the manor is used to house orphans and the injured when tragedy strikes or the healers are all overburdened or full.

This house has always captured my imagination. The tapestries of his mother and father always catch my eye and I find myself spending time just peering into the image as if I can see the emotion between them.

There's one in my room. It depicts the birth of their son. Seymour told me this room used to belong to his nanny- at least until his parents died and she became more of an Advisor.

The former Maester, Jyscal and his wife are standing side by side. She is holding Seymour in a swaddle of cloth. He doesn't speak of her much, I don't even know her name. The look in her eyes is radiant, rapturous. Jyscal looks on in good humor, love pouring from his eyes.

I blink blearily as the image fuzzes over and sigh. No sleep for me tonight, it seems. How long was I asleep for this time?

I check the chronometer on the stand next to my bed and frown. Six hours. If I sleep that long, I usually sleep all night.

A shudder runs down my spine and my muscles seize for a short moment. "Shit!" I whisper and curl into a ball, focusing a barrier of white magic around my body. The Shell materializes as a dancing dome of purple and red like always. It flickers at the energy dissipating against it, protecting me from the errant magical residue.

This always means something big is happening. Whether it's someone doing magic to heal or harm, or even just practicing and letting it get out of hand- magic doesn't just  _do_  this.

So I push off my blankets and step onto the floor. The Shell follows me because I bid it, if not it'd just sit there. It takes a lot of concentration to maintain, but it's second nature now. The floor is cool, but not as cold as it should be at this time of night.

The door to my room is locked the same as it was when I went to bed last night, and I wait for the static-y discharge of magic to die down again before grasping the handle.

The hallways are quiet, and following the source of the magic around is harder than it first seemed.

' _The magic is emanating from one place, but bouncing around all the metal and magical artifacts. This will be difficult without meditation and time.'_

And of course, I have neither if I want to catch up to the source before the energy dies out.

The only other magic-user of any caliber here is Seymour. And since I'm now sure it's coming from  _inside_  the house, I can only assume he is doing this. Somehow, for some reason he's lost control or is lashing out.

In my rush down the opulent hallway, I almost knock over a priceless vase. I turn for a moment to steady it before streaking forward once more.

The air is too hot, it's always cool and moist here at night. It's a blistering, dry heat- something that tells me I'll have to contend with fire as well as lightning tonight.

I'm right.

The door to Seymour's room is wreathed in magic flame, not burning but consuming. It's the same blue-green-white it always is when Seymour conjures fire. It consumes the energy in the air, the air itself and I almost choke. I gather energy around me and use it to form red-purple ice, sending it crashing against the door, bowing it inward. The flames aren't extinguished but there are less of them now, and icy slush on the floor.

Another blow with ice and the door breaks down completely and falls into the room.

There's no fire in there. The inside of his room is complete darkness, like the void of a moonless night. I step up to the threshold and force icy air to swirl around me, extinguishing the rest of the flames in the door frame. I summon a small ball of heat to my hand and let the Shell fall away as another pulse hits me. Now that I'm ready for it, I can snatch the energy of it out of the air and use it for the ball in my hand.

It's too much power for the size of it, so I allow the ball of energy and flame to expand a bit as I step forward. The light of my ball of flame melts away the deepest shadows to reveal Maester Seymour on the floor, eyes clenched shut and body shaking with an electric current.

As foggy as I already am, with sleep- my concern further blinds me to danger. I reach down to touch him, a Dispelling surge of energy flooding through me before I realize it's a bad idea.

A soft yelp escapes my throat before the energy inside him completely overtakes me.

Locked in place, a horrible burning agony scorching my insides to a fine crisp- and an image. Fuzzy, hard to make out, but sharp enough to hurt my eyes. The jagged edges of the rocky slope seem to reach out and rake jagged claw-stones down my eyeballs. I can't look away, can't move. My body is rooted to the spot, fingertips still just barely touching Seymour's shoulder. I can feel it, even if I can't see it.

The mountain of jagged rock turns around, and my breath catches in my throat. A single, bloodshot yellow eye is staring at me. Right into my eyes, straight down to my soul.

The energy surge reaches a peak and explodes outward, leaving our bodies to shatter the windows and arc up to the sky.

I twitch on the ground next to Seymour for several minutes before my faculties return to me. Slowly I'm able to clench my eyes shut. They're dry, scratchy and feel oddly out of shape. When I open them, they water and the sight of Seymour's pale eyes looking right back at me is somewhat a comfort.

He recovers faster than I do, perhaps due to his higher level of magical understanding and resistance. Perhaps also due to the spell I cast on him as the energy leapt to me. He is able to turn onto his back and lift both arms enough to put his hands on his chest. He weakly interlocks his fingers and slowly starts to work them together.

His hands seem to get stronger and move faster, so he clamps them together and moves on to his wrists and elbows. Before long, he can move his arms without much trouble. I wonder why he didn't start with his legs and have a moment of  _duh_  when he turns over again to reach out for me.

I can't even move one fingertip yet.

Well, I can- but it's a clenching, jerking motion that can't really be considered control of any kind. He grasps my shoulder and pulls me up into his lap. I'm half lying on top of him as he begins to help me move my arms and fingers, and I can feel his legs still spasming underneath me. "We..." He clears his throat and I'm mystified he can speak at all. "Must go back to bed." That's even more surprising.

The surprise must show on my face because that amused, indulgent look is all over  _his_  now. "Yes, I know. You want to talk. Do you really think you could now?"

I think about that for a moment. I'm pretty sure I'll just collapse right here and fall asleep, so no.

"We will speak in the morning, once our magic has seen fit to heal us completely." He bows his head, takes a deep breath and sighs, " _Esuna..._ "

A wreathe of energy settles around us, negating a small amount of the paralysis still clinging to us. I'm able to clear my throat, move my arms and roll my neck. His legs have become steadier, but when he stands- me in his arms, I can feel the tremble in him. He walks to the bed and sets me down. "I will... sleep in your room. I cannot carry you... all the way there." He shakes his head, brow furrowing. His usually perfectly coiffed spikes are unruly, almost looking thorny in their sleep tousled state.

"Sey..." I cough and curl into a ball, clenching my arms around myself.

"Don't try to speak... It is difficult, even for me." He helps me to settle back into his bed. "I... will call upon you in the morning." He turns and walks to the doorway, the hallway lights are all shorted out, but the emergency torches have lit. His pale skin is awash in green light, casting him as a porcelain figurine with silk robes.

I've always been in awe of how pretty Seymour is. His strength and aptitude for magic have always demanded my utmost respect, but the fact that he can go through a disaster and still be breathtaking is one skill he's never been able to teach me.

' _I_ really _want to learn that.'_


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm confused." Is the first thing to pop out of my mouth when Seymour finds me in the meditation room.

"We've already spoken about it at length, my friend." He gives me a weary look. "I know you are eager to get out into the world and yet you question every bit of the decision I have made."

"It's not that I don't want to go." I bite my lip and trace a fingertip around the edge of my tea mug. "I'm just worried about you. You love Guadosalam and the Macalania temple."

"I do." He nods and smiles so faintly, as always, that it seems not to even be there. "Macalania Temple is where I am most needed under normal circumstances. And Guadosalam will always be home to me. But what's coming is much... more important."

"You still haven't been able to explain what exactly  _is_  coming." I hate to bring it up and sound like I'm calling him crazy, but the fact that he hadn't been able to adequately put to words what exactly was threatening Spira...

"It was difficult this morning, as the effects of the magical discharge were still affecting me." He reaches out to take my hand and squeezes apologetically. "I didn't mean to frighten you last night."

"Intentions often have no bearing on what actually happens." I deadpan.

"That is good." He gives me a half-smile now, his version of a smirk. Guileless and amused. "Then, perhaps the great force of Pyrrhia will  _intend_  to destroy Spira- and fail."

"Pyrrhia?" Speaking the word calls a tingle to my mouth and lips, I don't like it.

"The name of a goddess, long forgotten." He takes a sip of his mug and I can't resist asking.

"If it's long forgotten, how do you know it?" I huff and set down my cup. "Seymour, I need more than this. Tell me all of it."

"I cannot." The amusement is still there, but there's a gravity to his tone now. "I must wait."

"For what?" I really hate this. The Fayth only give visions or portents of evil to come to one person at a time. If Seymour is to be their vessel this time, then that means I will never see what he's seen. If he feels he can't say something yet, I should accept it.

"For our Journey to truly begin." He tilts his head at me as I groan in irritation.

"Maester!" One of the female Guado comes running into the room, slamming the door wide open to bang against the wall in the process.

Seymour stands with a smooth flourish of his silken robes.

"We're under attack! Fiends!" She stops, collapsing to catch her breath and I can tell the same question goes through both of our minds.

' _How many?'_

"Come, we must see to the people." Seymour sweeps past her with me on his heels. The Guardians who roam the halls are small in number, but there is an entire crowd of them at the front doors. They are bracing the doors of the manor against some great surging strength. "What is this?" Seymour calls out to the nearest Guardian, behind the door holding team.

He trots over to us, white hair messy and smudged with blood already. "Maester. We've been overrun by fiends. They seem to be acting in concert, we aren't sure-"

A bulge of the door is rebuffed by the door holding team, shoving and roaring even as magic crackles through the wood to lash at them.

"They're going to be killed!" I left my staff in my room, damn it!

"Get your gear." Seymour looks mournful, "I didn't think they'd attack us directly like this. We must leave."

"What?" I glare at him, incredulously. "You can't be serious, Seymour these are your-"

"I know!" He shouts, a sudden growl entering his voice.

I back away from him and glance at the doors.

"I know, but we won't help them by staying. The fiends are after you and I," He gestures between us. "This is part of what I saw."

"You  _saw_  this?" Why didn't he say anything!

"Not this exactly, I saw- I cannot tell you. Come!" He seems to be buckling under some immense weight.

' _Maester Seymour loves his people. He'd die for his people, if he says staying won't help then-'_

"UGH!" I scream through my teeth and follow him down the hall toward his room.

Just as a fiend comes into the main hall from one of the bedrooms, breaking down the door in one smooth movement. It turns it's glowing eyes on me and hisses, electric whiskers flicking magic at me. I dart around the corner of the hall and run faster after him.

' _Perhaps he's not completely mad after all.'_

I toss a fireball behind me as I reach his room, incinerating the low level fiend before it can lunge at me.

Seymour is rummaging in his closet, with a small case sitting beside him on the floor. He pulls out two different staffs, one his regular staff and another that seems to be another element. He tosses that one to me.

As my fingers encircle the long metal weapon, I can feel the energy inside it. The metal is swirled with decorative symbols and magically imbued runes. The top is an unnervingly organic looking cage of metal surrounding a glowing yellow Opal stone. It changes to bright red as I hold it.

"Seymour! This is a personal Staff, it will be useless to you now!"

"I know." He brandishes his own. "It will grow and change with you, as mine has with me. I meant to give it to you when your pledge years ended. Now is better, I think." He reaches out to grasp my arm and pulls me to the broken open window that overlooks the woods. "We will have to jump." His arm encircles my waist before I can say anything, and we're suddenly free falling out the window.

My scream is probably ear-piercing, but Seymour doesn't lose focus. A gust of wind buffets us as we go down, glowing brilliant green-blue. We hit the ground much softer than I expected.

"OOF!" It still knocks the wind out of me.

We land in a sprawl, staff knocked out of my hand and rolled up against a nearby tree. Seymour shoves himself to his feet and starts walking. "We must go. This way."

"Wait for me, damn it!" I scramble to my feet and run to pick up my staff before chasing after him. "Seymour!"


End file.
